


Ask

by thecountessolivia



Category: London Spy
Genre: Blow Jobs, Danny tops, Hand Jobs, Insecurity, M/M, Masturbation, One single drawn out shag, POV Alex, PWP, Romance, Sexual Fantasy, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-23 04:39:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6105178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecountessolivia/pseuds/thecountessolivia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex angsts over how to ask Danny for sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Butterflies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



His workstation faces a colonnade of five vast windows, their tinted panes dimming the view of London's grey, milky skies. When the allotted time arrives, Alex peers above his bank of monitors and allows his eyes to rest on the sprawling glass canvas. It's there that his mind casts its vivid pictures.

For an entire week after that night, the faultless flow of his concentration had shorted out and ground to a halt. He'd spark at random, a sloppily wired circuit, the ripe, raw recollections zapping at his heart and interrupting his work. Before long and not without effort, his disciplined rhythm resumed. Now, several times throughout the day, Alex permits himself, in brief intervals, to daydream of Danny.

Guilt prods him whenever he observes that he's meticulously catalogued the experiences of the past few weeks, like a botanist pinning labels beneath neat rows of newly collected butterflies. Worse, he's reminded of the crude-mouthed freshers he'd overhear years ago in university halls and libraries. Newly rid of their virginity, they'd cackle while enumerating their conquests, disrupting his studies and jabbing at his loneliness with their boasts.

He boasts now only to himself. He treasures and pores over each new specimen.

Three weeks and three days now since they first made love.  
Twelve times since.  
Eight times at Danny's.  
At his flat, four.  
Twice in one night, twice.

His strange and exciting new taxonomy often falters. Where to pin and how to label last Saturday? In the small, deserted car park, beaming from their long walk and deaf to his weak, bewildered protests, Danny had clambered from the passenger seat to straddle Alex's lap. Wet kisses poured themselves into Alex's mouth, his hands led by the wrists to help wrestle open the buttons of Danny's jeans. Even now his cock twitches when he thinks of Danny's soft, emphatic whisper: "Take it out... touch me."

Lost to reason, he'd sent their tongues vibrating with his moans and let his palm work in rough strokes down the length of Danny's hard cock, nearly coming from the weight and friction of Danny's hips circling down into his crotch. That is, until a glimpse of another car had sent them scrambling apart.

Then two weeks ago, the fiasco of his second attempt at a blow job. Overcome with want, overzealous tongue lashing against Danny's cock, he'd climaxed pathetically within a few quick strokes of his own hand, leaving Danny to attend to his embarrassment and to help swat away the self-loathing of lost self-control.

One thing is certain: he has yet to ask.

Words and courage fail him. Instead, Alex waits, hopes, watchful for clues and invitations: the hug that turns into a grinding of hips; the kiss that slips from his mouth to his neck; the touch that strays from clothing to skin; the fingers that hook through his belt loops and pull him into bed.

But now... now it's been four days. Danny invites him over, drops by as before. Danny brings along warmth, smiles, conversation, all the things he desperately craves. And nothing more than the odd peck on the lips.

A vague, fluttering worry creeps into Alex's carefully timed reveries, stoked by a physical need he's never had to acknowledge or articulate before.

_Danny... please._

Today, at mid-day, a text.

> Could pop by around 8 tonight? Stay in maybe?

Hand pressed to his brow, Alex closes then re-opens the message, dwells on it furtively, and nearly fails to notice that his thumb is sliding and circling over the little red heart that concludes it.


	2. The Map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smile that greets him spills warmth through Alex's belly, down into his thighs, and the kiss hello is long enough for him to catch traces of nicotine dispelled with the sweetness of peppermint.

As soon as he's home, anticipation begins to stalk him from room to room. When he's had enough of pacing about and uselessly aligning books and trinkets, Alex drains his muscles to fatigue on the pull bar then heads for the shower.

The water hits and the dense nervousness of his thoughts is tempered. The apparition of a face, ruled over by dancing green eyes and a soft red mouth, appears before him in the spot where the two of them have yet to stand naked together. Eyes pressed shut, Alex locks in on the face smiling up at him through the rushing streams, pictures himself smoothing down the soft chaos of near-black hair into wet wisps. Unseen fingertips, not his own but Danny's, reach down to lift and toy with his soft cock, soaping it up until it stiffens, pulling it and guiding into the path of the hardest hitting jets. Danny's hand joining in with his, fingers braiding together and coiling into a tight, wet tunnel into which they thrust both their pricks...

"Stop."

Alex nearly snarls at himself, slamming both hands up against the tiles to keep them at bay. He stares down at his erection, heavy and throbbing in the spray and the steam.

_And if he never wants me again?_

Then it'll be back to nothing but this.

Back in the bedroom, towel ruffling through wet hair, he peers into the bedside drawer, once empty and now lined with newly sourced supplies. He'd memorised the brands Danny uses, bought the same online and now finds this strange stock check both embarrassing and reassuring.

A neatly arranged change of clothing - white t-shirt, charcoal-coloured cashmere jumper and, for once, jeans - is laid out on the immaculate bed. Four days since the bed's grey cotton sheets lay in a tangled heap and amongst them, beneath him, Danny sprawled smiling and spent. Alex above him, panting his bliss, watching deliriously as drops of sweat slipped from his brow to mingle with the cum spilled and cooling in pearly wet slivers across Danny's stomach.

The cleaners had been since, had stripped back and changed the sheets, and ferried off the last remnants of the scent he'd been clinging to and trying not to wank to each night.

The soft trill of the intercom arrives just as he's finished dressing and his heart rattles about in his chest. He takes wide strides for the door.

"Hi."

While he waits for the light knock to come, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and grimaces at the face he dislikes. He pauses to consider, then quickly strips back to his t-shirt, pulling the thin white cotton down and taut over his stomach, the jumper thrown hastily over a hallway chair.

The smile that greets him spills warmth through Alex's belly, down into his thighs, and the kiss hello is long enough for him to catch traces of nicotine dispelled with the sweetness of peppermint.

"Hello, lovely you." Danny's smile lingers and he's nodding to the carrier bags in his hand. "Bits and bobs for dinner. To the kitchen I go..."

As Danny's slight frame slips past him, Alex follows the green eyes flicking over his torso and flinches when they land knowingly on the cast-off jumper.

For long seconds he stands abandoned in the hallway, wringing his hands, then follows. He loiters pointlessly in the kitchen door frame, watching the gentle bustle that's broken through the dead silence of the flat.

"Mostly just nibbles, hope that's ok. Still, maybe with wine?"

He nods in agreement, barely listening, and finds he is leering. Facing away, tidying away his trove, Danny has shifted his weight onto one leg. Alex finds he knows precisely the way his hands fit over the slanting slim hips: thumbs slid over the thin jut of hip bone, fingertips just reaching around and dipping into the dimples at the small of Danny's back... then sliding down. There is a map inside Alex of all the places his mouth has been and he feels himself blush when he thinks of the seam between Danny's buttock and thigh, where his kisses have been far too timid and prudish to venture.

"Done!"  
"Hm?"  
  
He blinks the thoughts away and watches Danny let out a short, sparkling laugh.  
  
"Oh, just that I've tucked everything into the fridge. We're eating later, right?"  
"Oh, yes, that's fine."  
"Alex..."  
  
Danny stands near the door, close enough to touch. Just as he starts to stare down into the hollow of collarbone, framed by a v-neck jumper, and wonder what the coarsely woven fibres must feel like against Danny's naked skin, Alex realises he's blocking the way.

"Alex."  
"What."  
"Are you OK?"

He lets out a soundless laugh to hide the hitch in his breath.  
"Mm, yes, it's just that you have..."

His hand lifts to fiddle with the escaped label tag of Danny's jumper and, having tucked it in, dares to linger. The eyes that had wandered with amused bemusement over his face now grow still and serious, locking on his own. Grounded thus, Alex lets his fingers march slowly over the long neck, meticulously mapping out each vertebrae, before sliding into thick waves of hair. Danny's head tilts back and moves into the touch. His eyes close. 

"Danny..."

Danny's words just register, barely more than breath.  
"Ask me, Alex... Please."

And Alex does.

 


	3. Give

When he looks back beyond the past few weeks at the long stretch of years, he finds himself staring into a vast black ocean, the view of a man crawled onto the shore from a depthless darkness, incredulous at his own survival.

He finds the notions of kismet and providence risible. Outside the heart-twisting tenderness he has yet dare to label, awed incredulity is the only thing Alex recognises in himself whenever they're together.   
  
By now he knows his pacing had been off, his rhythm awkward. He'd started out too quickly, pushed his mouth against Danny's with a pleading, noisy need, felt himself grow hard within a few heated twists of their tongues. Staggering them back from the kitchen to the bedroom, moaning his want, he'd peeled off their tops and let his hand paw against Danny's jeans until the staccato sighs against his lips and the swell of Danny's cock beneath his urgent kneading told him he was still wanted.

And so he's calmed, almost relieved, when Danny's hands slide up and over his naked shoulders and press him gently down to settle on the side of the bed. A single finger separates his mouth from its desperate attempts at more kisses. It slips down to his chin, joined by the others to trace the outline of his jaw.

"Shhh... there's no rush."

Danny stands cradled between his thighs, pulling caresses through Alex's hair, a thin silhouette lit from the side by the yellow street light that streams in through the blinds. This, too, calms and stills Alex: Danny above him. Two, perhaps three inches of height divide them and this way Alex can be the smaller one for once, Danny's looming warmth and closeness the secret place he can hide in.

The bedroom is silent but for the hushed hum of distant traffic and the soft sounds of their proximity. A few times before Danny had put on music, but Alex prefers this: the rustle, slide and sigh of clothing, skin and breath all amplified by the stillness, reassuring him that this, all of this, is real.

Distracted away from the demands of his erection, Alex lets the quiet moment sprawl and linger. He hates the way his hands always tremble beforehand but at least now he knows how and where to still them. He reaches up to slide both palms along Danny's sides, over the span of soft skin to the jutting wings of thin shoulder blades, to press and caress there - then back down again, tracing muscle, bone and warmth along the way. A glint of green eyes, caught through the shadow of tumbling dark hair, meets his gaze and he hears Danny's breath quicken to a flutter.

"Alex..."

Danny arches against him and Alex shivers. This, God, this more than anything else... this is what he's begun to understand and love. It thrills Alex like an answer to a riddle, the crux of it all finally discovered. Not just to cling, clutch and take what he's given but to watch the efforts of his touch take their toll and take Danny apart...

_Give to him. Make him feel good._

Spurred on, his mouth spreads wet and hot against Danny's stomach, roaming slowly then stopping to close into gentle nibbles, feeling the lithe body bend and react. While his kisses widen, his fingers flick open the silver hook clasp that binds Danny's belt, the button and zip undone next. His tongue grows bolder, laps at the warm skin and through the thin scattered trail of soft dark hair that climbs up just above the loosened jeans, the tip pointing and diving in and out of Danny's navel...

Danny bucks in his arms, folding at the waist with a soft yelp that turns into a giggle.  
"What the... Alex!"

Alex winces and looks up, rattled with worry.

_Oh._

"I'm sorry..."

_Not something that's done._

While he's wiping at the wet paths he'd left against Danny's belly with the back of his hand, mirth cascades down from above. Danny dips down for a kiss.   
"It's OK... It just tickles, that's all. Here..."

With just a shift of hips and a quick tug of hands, he's pulled himself free and with that easy, passing gesture Danny's cock is there, beneath the reach of Alex's mouth, so close that the silken head is brushing the hair on his chest, against his heart. 

Alex's hands fall limply to his thighs and for a moment he stares down, breath torn to shreds. He feels the tugging strain of his own prick when it dawns on him that this is now familiar, almost comfortingly natural. He knows the way the blood colours and swells Danny's cock, knows the weight, warmth and fit of it in his mouth. Calm confidence overtakes him. He knows where and how to begin. 

_Slowly... no rush.  
_

His fingers wrap the shaft to form the most tentative light strokes and he peers up, even now seeking permission, but in the parted red mouth and in the hands that twine in his hair he reads only anticipation and want. 

He inches back on the bed, curving and dipping down to lift Danny's cock and coil his lips about the head. As it slips past, his upper lip gathers up a small salty droplet, a prelude of taste that makes him shudder. He passes it onto his tongue and lets it spread the slickness along the rougher skin just beneath the sensitive ridge. With soft sighs Danny sways into him, pulls his mouth down into shallow, diving strokes, brought down with a cascade of broken whimpers that Alex can't contain. 

He must be squirming, straining from the aching heat radiating from his own cock, because his free hand is pulled away from kneading at the curve of Danny's arse and is guided down gently. A soft, stuttered voice reaches him through his ceaseless moans.   
   
"Touch yourself for me, Alex... please."  
  
The whispered sound of his own name, the name that belongs to Danny, lights him with a hundred fuses and Alex does as he is asked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christ, writing this stuff is like sweating bullets. One more chapter to go. Let's get our Mr Turner properly laid, shall we?


	4. Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's always been you..."

His mouth is set free and soothed with a kiss.

"Keep going... gently, OK?"

He breathes a sharp sigh of assent to Danny's whisper, his palm working a slow, steady rhythm of loose strokes down the length of his cock. He doesn't ask why - the tender eyes that watch him in the near darkness are answer enough.

_Before you, this was all I had. Now this, too, belongs to you._

With another kiss and a gentle press of hands against his shoulders he's lowered down to the bed.

He doesn't stop. Lifted on one elbow, eyes half-mast, he peers up at the slim naked body poised at the edge of the bed, Danny's cock still slicked and glistening with his saliva, a sight that quickens his breath and his stroke. A sight too brief: with a smile, Danny slinks down, shimmying out of his undone jeans along the way, then tugs Alex free of his own. Briefly, they are apart. Even this, the slightest separation, and he's anxious and forlorn in his nakedness, craning up in search of Danny's eyes, squirming against the sheets in search of reassuring friction of skin against skin.

Stray kisses and a tickle of dark fringe brush against Alex's sprawled thighs, as if to comfort him through the brief divide and distract from the quick reach of an arm for the bedside drawer, where Danny finds the condoms and lube. Alex feels his heart leap, as it still always does at this throwaway gesture, like an anxious patient glimpsing the implements of a strange new procedure.

Sliding onto the bed to stretch alongside him, Danny stops and the mouth - the soft, red mouth that Alex now pictures whenever he touches himself - slides over the tip of his cock. Pausing his wank, a single wet pull and suckle of lips breaks Alex's breath into a groan, and then is gone.

Danny pressed against his side, Alex turns to whimper protests into a kiss and as his tongue pleads its case against Danny's, he hears the now familiar cap click of the little bottle. He feels the second heart-leap of worry and want.

His hand is led away and the kiss breaks for words, slid softly against his lips.

"Let me..."

It's different, smaller than his own and so hot and so sweetly slicked with lube that when it closes around Alex's cock his whole body twists away from the kiss, arching and helpless to stop his hips from fucking the tight grasp of Danny's fist. Embarrassing, stuttered moans escape him, one after another.

"Oh god... oh god, Danny..."

This, this at last, after drawn-out, desperate days without.  
  
"'Sokay, love. Easy..."  
  
He calms and settles as Danny's hold loosens to the lightest stroke, slippery fingertips gathered up then spread down over the crown of his cock, to tease and mingle the lube with the precum that streams from the slit. Then fading off, almost completely but for the lightest caress of a flattened hand against the shaft, soothing it down against his stomach. Their faces are close, their calves tangled. Then, as softly as before:  
  
"Can I ask you something?"  
  
He nods, breathing control into the slow stoking of tension, sparked by every glance he dares to cast down the length of his body to the idle movement of the slim wrist, by each brush of Danny's hard prick against Alex's flank.

"Before we met... what did you use to think about? When you touched yourself..."

He's naked, sprawled, embarrassingly unravelled and still, he thinks to himself: _Still you manage to blush_...

Danny's gaze and touch melt against him and Alex descends into the fragmented web of his inner world, spun from the imagined scenarios about the handful of people who'd shown him any attention or kindness. He thinks about the men he'd glanced at timidly in coffee shops and on the street. The slim, light-footed, dark-haired young men whom, if ever they met his skittish gaze, he'd dream about later, trying to give shape to impossible intimacies, the warmth, the brush of stubble, the feel of smooth skin over broad shoulders and napes of necks.

Tenderness twists his heart again, vast and unnamed and reaching for Danny. He cannot think of another answer.  
  
"You."

_It's always been you..._

They're too close, lips a breath apart in the dark. He can't focus well enough on the soft features before him to collect the expression now forming on Danny's face in response: a smile, perhaps, cut through with a strange ache.

Seeking answers, he rolls on his side, arm reaching to pull them close, longing to feel their mouths and cocks slide together. With a small wiggle, Danny's hips retreat from his own, just far enough to deny him the contact of prick against prick. The secret smile lingers, inscrutable in the dark and dancing in the corners of the wet mouth.

Alex blinks, baffled. Another pull, his hand now firmer, insistent against a soft arse cheek. Again, the smile, turning to a soundless laugh, the shunt of resistance from Danny's hips, joined by a hand that holds Alex back at the shoulder.

He's frowning now, tipping over into fretting and tries for a kiss, again denied. 

"What... what are you doing?"  
"Teasing..."  
  
A huff of want escapes him and with a wide sweep of arm, he wrestles Danny on top of himself, a quick, urgent hoist to sit himself up and bring him into his lap. He meets no resistance but by now he's panting, all gentle pace abandoned for frantic frustration.

"Why?" 

Pressing and breathing hot against Danny, pinning the lithe weight to himself, he clutches the slim shoulders, gropes down the smooth skin of Danny's back. He pleads, collapsed into a child-like whinge.

"Please, why? When I want you so much..."

At last their cocks collide, his own pressed up beneath Danny's and he's relieved to hear gasps of pleasure that come as his hand tries to bring them together, thrusting and thumbing over one prick, then the other, desperate for closeness.   
  
"Alex..."  
  
Arms flung about his neck, forehead pressed to Alex's, Danny arches against him, muscles slack then strained, hips grinding down to bring their cocks closer, wanton breaths coursing in waves from throat to chest. Then, for a moment, all is stillness and Alex is merely held, hugged close. Drawing back, Danny clasps his cheeks, smooths fingertips over his brow. In the melting green eyes Alex finds all secrets dissolved. 

"Alex... listen to me. I don't mind that you're shy. But you don't have to be shy with me. You really don't. If you want to fuck, just tell me. Tell me and we'll fuck. OK?" 

He's dumbfounded, overwhelmed, manages a timid, murmured "yes" in reply. In the end, he lets his hands answer in his stead. They slip down and sprawl over the curve of Danny's arse, kneading, spreading the cheeks, each fingertip passing and circling the tight puckered ring between them until one, the middle one, presses urgently inwards. A soft hiss breaks against his mouth and Danny flinches.

"Wait, wait."   
"Sorry... sorry, Danny."

A smile of forgiveness while his hand is pulled between them, hastily slathered in lube then guided back by the wrist. A quick fumble and his fingers are led in, one, then another. Climbing up higher inward, swallowed up, clenched and curving in that tight, hot slickness where his cock had been before. Seeking...

"There?" he gasps the question, pausing, cautious not to hurt.

"Yes... there... Alex, oh Christ, oh fuck..."

He's lost, completely undone, an incoherent, incredulous witness to the sight and sensation of Danny fucking himself onto the fingers that Alex curves and scissors inside him, the slow writhing swell of the slight body slapping their cocks together, against their stomachs. A lap of tongue and pull of lips against his earlobe reach him through the daze, the sweet scrape of stubble against his cheek, the melody of Danny's voice rasped and cracked with lust.    
  
"Tell me. Tell me what you want."  
  
_Everything. Anything. You._  
  
"Do you want to fuck me?"

"No." 

He stutters, stops to recoil at his own bluntness and smothers Danny's laugh of response in a kiss.  
  
"No, I mean... I want you to... I want..."

One more kiss and then, trembling, he asks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why. Why is this now six chapters? It was supposed to be two. 
> 
> Poor Alex... but all good things come to those who wait. Hur hur.


	5. Everything

Ten days ago his trembling hands were being pulled away from his face, to be clasped between Danny's. His eyes were being sought through the tears to witness and accept what was being said to him.

"Alex. Alex. It's fine. It's OK. It happens. Besides, you don't have to do this. Ever, if you don't want to. It's perfect. Everything. As it is. Already."

His first two times were strained bliss, the pain and the near-panic thinned with alcohol. His third had been a flippant, desperate attempt to please. He'd hurt himself, made a mess and crumbled into shame.

Alex recalls and believes the deep sincerity of Danny's words, now as his neck twists his face into the pillow to try and hide a tremulous gasp.

As soon as fear betrays him, he feels Danny grow still behind him. A warm nuzzle spreads between Alex's shoulder blades.  
"Should I...?"  
  
He wants to interrupt with "Don't stop" but something else rushes out, wider with unintended feeling.  
"N-no... Don't give up."

Danny's hushed promise mingles with the kisses that reach the back of Alex's neck.  
"I won't. I won't, love."  
  
Anchored to the warmth pressed up behind him, he lies on his right side, head dropped onto a folded arm, left leg raised below the knee and gently pushed forward by Danny. Reluctantly, he peers down the length of his tense body and sees his erection flagged with nervousness, the weight of his cock dropped to the sheets.

Danny keeps his promise and Alex feels the two slim fingers remain inside him, slick, still and patient. Pressing no further, they wait. Fast, even breaths guide Alex through the stretching pressure and he raises slightly, slowly on his elbow. Pivoting his hips back into Danny, he looks for rhythm, resolve and something more. He strains back and latches onto the glinting green irises in search of answers.   
  
"Please... is it OK?"  
"Gorgeous, Alex. So, so beautiful."  
  
Relieved, he lifts up, and a slim arm, the one that's free, slides beneath Alex to fold across the span of his chest. Cradling and caressing, Danny's warm palm spreads over his heart and for a moment Alex fears that it will discover the cowardly palpitations thrashing within. Instead, the hand wanders down and finds his own, braiding a knot of warm digits that locks them together in the tentative sway.  
  
Matching his hips' cautious canting, the two fingers press in slightly now, then divide and bend inside him. Through clenched eyelids, he takes in the swirling movement like a voice heard through the thin wall of discomfort - then recognises and locks onto it at last.

The electric feeling of being pleasured from the inside.

It is everything. It sweeps Alex up completely. Caressing currents surge from his prostate, through his balls, and when he peers down again, he finds his hand split from Danny's clasp and beating hard over his rigid cock, wringing out the jolting jets of pleasure with wanton tugs. Driving himself back in rolling waves into Danny's hand, spilling moans into every thrust, until the slim joints splay between his arse cheeks and the fingers that fuck him so sweetly can go no deeper.  

Undone and unravelled, he throws a hand over his mouth to shut up the litany of noise that escapes him. Danny grabs for his wrist, pulls the hand from his lips, the gentle voice gritted with desire.

"No. I want to hear you."

He cranes back again, mouth soft and slack with cries, lapped up by Danny's tongue. Finally breaking into a whispered demand. 

"Now. Please."

They separate, hands fumbling about in the darkness for a condom, naked limbs shifting and sliding softly against the sheets towards the destination Alex had timidly asked for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere around the corner a spectacular crescendo awaits. Nearly, nearly there. 
> 
> This chapter is soundtracked by ["I Think I Knew"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gyHQFs2bzL0) by Cate Le Bon and Perfume Genius


	6. Fit

"I want to sit on you..."  
  
It had taken all of his courage to press the shy whisper into Danny's ear. The words distilled from the wish he'd been harbouring for days had simmered to the surface heavy and awkward. 

Now the long, blissed out minutes have passed and he's been teased, caressed, kissed, stroked hard and fingered open. Now he is knelt on the sheets, gazing at Danny beneath him. Danny, sprawled naked, lifted on hastily piled pillows, green eyes brilliant and expectant in the dark, thumb and forefinger wrapped around a condom-clad cock, thick and throbbing. 

Now all that had remained of Alex's fears is smothered in hot, suffocating want. 

Still, a simple worry stalks him.

He's biting his lip. 

"Are you sure it'll be OK... like this?"  
"Alex. You won't break me, I promise. Ride me as hard as you want. Please, love."     
  
Danny's free hand reaches for him. Nails and fingertips trail from Alex's navel downwards, scraping and brushing through the thickening of coarse hair above his cock, gathering together to circle caresses over his tightening balls, down the ticklish flesh of inner thighs. He's coaxed in and ready. Breath shaking, flushed from the touch, he inches forward to straddle Danny's lap and twine his hand for balance about the long neck. 

The warm fingertips move featherlight over the tip of his prick and he guides them away with a shudder, fearing himself too close to endure the slightest strokes. 

"Not yet, please, Danny..."

 _Not until you're inside me._  

Reaching behind, he lowers down, cautiously takes up and guides Danny's cock. Eyes shut, caught in the warmth of their twining breaths, he feels the slick push between his cheeks and for a moment he fears his body will betray him and fight back against the pressure. But the pressing pang of pain melts and dissolves into the moans that sail from Danny when he feels himself filled at last. 

The whimper that chokes in his own throat collides and stifles against the soft mouth that strains for him and he sinks down the full length of Danny's cock.

The slow, delicate ebb and rise builds as Danny's hands bracket his hips, pulling him down and in, pivoting his hot length into the sweet, tender spot that jolts him with pure intensity, snares his whole body with pleasure and sends him into frantic thrusts over the hot prick inside him. Lost for breath, riding fast and hard, he barely manages a shuddering plea.

"Now. Touch me." 

A brief flurry of pumping strokes that match the rolling rhythm of his fucking, and the euphoric steer of Danny's hand carries him over. Their sweat-soaked brows crash into each other to watch the thick streams of cum spit hot and long between them, jet after jet spent from his cock into Danny's firm grasp. The flash flood of Alex's orgasm roars upwards. Not the perfunctory, quick burst of his own wanking, but a convulsive force that hurls itself huge and headlong through his stomach, heart, throat to tip his head back violently and rip his attempts at silence into unchecked, stuttered cries - until it seems as if the delirium and the smile that's split his lips wide will mark themselves on him forever.

Something in the predictable pace of time snaps and Alex cannot calculate how many seconds, minutes pass before the blinding rush recedes; he's summoned back only by the soft, steady sound of Danny's breath against him and the cooling streams of spunk coursing lazily down bellies and chests. Shaking, laughing, he slumps into the sweet, slick mess, gathering up the small body he straddles into his arms. And then, in an instance, as he smooths the wet strands of dark hair against his shoulder and wonders at Danny's quiet stillness beneath him, Alex is aghast. He pulls back to find himself peering into a face as calm and as slackened as the limbs he is cradling.

"Danny... you?"

Though barely recovered, thighs still trembling, he throws himself back into the pace he'd abandoned moments after he'd climaxed, clenching and driving down hard onto the cock that still fills him, desperate to make amends for his obliviousness. He's met with breathless, laughing gasps and the kicking of legs beneath him. Hands fumbling at his hips, Danny fights against him.

"Oh god... god, no! Alex, stop! A bit late for that..."

Eyes wide, understanding, he startles hastily off. As gently as he can manage, he kneels up to let the sensitive, spent cock slip from his arse and Danny stifles a shuddering groan against his chest.

"Danny... Danny, sorry, I shouldn't have..."  
  
As he fumbles to strip off the condom, hands pull him down into kisses that track over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. His skin vibrates with Danny's purrs.  
  
"Shouldn't have what? Made me come so hard inside you I can barely move now?"

He smiles with something like pride and relief and eases back into the slight lap that holds him. They twine completely, rocking together through the cooling of sweat and the calming of breath. The gentle rhythm breaks when Alex hears Danny's voice soft and strained against him.

"Alex?"  
"Hm?"  
"I'm... I'm going to need you to move now."  
"Oh!"   
  
He slides off obligingly, apologetically, and settles beside Danny, hand rubbing feeling back into the sprawled slim thighs to the sound of laughter.  
  
"It's OK. Just pins and needles. It was so worth it, love. So worth it."  
  
Danny's laugh stills and the green eyes take Alex in, engulf him completely.  
  
"Alex. My love."

Alex no longer feels the tenderness that's twisted his heart for weeks. He is made of it. With trembling hands he reaches for Danny's cheeks and nods.

"I am. I am, yes."

\-----------------------  
  
Cheek rested on both hands, he's drifting in and out of a gentle doze. His eyelids lift ever so often, seeking reassurance that the still, slight body curled up beside him is there, within the reach of touch.

Words reach him instead, spoken in a caressing hush.

"I wish I could tell you how special it is. Being with you."  
"You mean it isn't always like this? With others?"  
"No. It's never been like this. I can't describe it, Alex. You and I, we just... we fit together."  
  
Alex frowns at this, considering.  
  
"Don't most people fit together?"  
  
Danny shifts against the sheets, props himself on his elbow, head in his palm.  
  
"OK, taken as an example: do you like the way we kiss?"  
"Yes. But I can't imagine not liking it.'

Tongue flicking quickly over a spreading grin, Danny leans in close and clamps his mouth over Alex's. The warm tongue thrusts in and spreads itself flat against his own, flicking and slapping about, sending Alex squirming away with laughter.  
  
"OK, OK, fine! Stop!"  
  
Danny draws back, giggling.  
  
"Trust me, it's very possible to be kissed very badly. But everyone likes something different."  
  
Danny's thumb wipes his mouth gently, and Alex pecks lightly against the tip. He hesitates, then asks.  
  
"How do I kiss?"

When he answers, Danny's voice is soft and silver, vibrating over Alex's heart.  
  
"Like you might never kiss again."

Alex lowers back down to the pillow. Letting his eyes fall closed, he takes in the words that follow. Their promise permeates through him. It gives him life.

"But you will, Alex. Every day for the rest of your life, if you want. You just have to ask."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I rather enjoyed penning this smut-fest, difficult as it was to churn out at times. All respect to smut writers everywhere. 
> 
> A few words about Alex: this was very much a study of his insecurity, budding libido and as-yet unacknowledged love for Danny. Therefore you'd have seen very little of his other personality traits. I think I was right to show his as still mostly a selfish lover, focused on his own feelings and sensations, with Danny taking a secondary role of guide and teacher. 
> 
> In any case: in my world those two are happily together and enjoying a lifetime of progressively more glorious shags. As always, the canon can go piss off.

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I finally gathered up the courage to write some proper smut about my favourite twosome.


End file.
